


Until Morning Comes

by DestielsDestiny



Series: Fires of the Soul [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 2x20 spoilers, BAMF Magnus Bane, Carrying, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Episode: s02e20 Beside Still Water, Gen, Hurt Alec, Hurt Jace Wayland, Hurt/Comfort, Jace Wayland Deserves Nice Things, Jace Wayland Feels, Jace Wayland is a Herondale, M/M, Magnus Bane & Jace Wayland Friendship, POV Magnus Bane, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Post finale fic, Protective Alec Lightwood, Protective Magnus Bane, Sweet Jace Wayland, Valentine's Bad Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielsDestiny/pseuds/DestielsDestiny
Summary: Magnus was feeling pretty good. Valentine was dead, he didn’t have to figure out how to pack for the Seelie realm, he’d just gotten his boyfriend back, and everyone was more or less alive. It was that last part that proved to be the sticky bit.





	Until Morning Comes

**Author's Note:**

> AN: First in a series, set post 2x20, mostly about the consequences to Jace of his death and resurrection, his parabatai bond with Alec and how it was affected, and Magnus' pov on the whole thing.

For once, Magnus actually felt pretty good. Pretty hopeful. 

Valentine was dead, he didn’t have to figure out how to pack for the Seelie realm, Alexander was once again officially his boyfriend, and everyone was more or less alive. All in all, the entire thing almost felt too easy. Almost. 

Magnus stroked his hand through Alec’s hair, gazing at his boyfriend’s peaceful countenance. 

After they had ditched the heavy on the champagne and the hopefulness party that none of them had had the heart to bedruge Lucian, even as they all pretended the alpha was drinking because he was so very happy that Valentine was no more, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly. 

Alec had held Magnus’ hand all the way back to the loft, where they had proceeded to consume four steaks between them, share a relaxing glass or three of a delectable Red wine, and then tumble into a bath together. Magnus would probably need more than a little magic to get the water out of the bathroom tiles from their somewhat powerful, make out induced tidal wave, but all in all it was one of the most pleasant and peaceful evenings he had passed in many years, right down to his boyfriend falling asleep with his head in Magnus’ lap. 

Mere hours after finding Valentine with his throat slit, his blood still fresh where it soaked the shores of Lake Lyn, mere days after believing a rift had been torn in relations with the Clave that nothing could bridge, Magnus could scarce have dreamed this outcome would ever even be possible. 

So yes, the whole thing almost felt too easy. Except. Except for one thing. Magnus’ hand drifted down to cover Alec’s where the shadowhunter was unconsciously caressing his parabatai room. Except for Jace. 

Magnus wasn’t entirely sure what had happened on that lake shore, what had transpired between Valentine Morgenstern and what were, for all intents and purposes, his two youngest children. But he knew that whatever it was, it was anything but easy. 

Magnus would never forget the look on Clarissa’s face as she held a bloody sword over her father’s corpse, the hate and the anger there. He would never forget the sheer relief in Isabelle’s voice as she breathed, “It’s over,” as if scarcely daring to believe it could be true. 

But most of all, he would never forget the sound of Alexander’s screams as Jace was stolen from them all over again, by the very monster who took him in the first place, before he was even born. 

There are many things Magnus hates Valentine for, but even now, with the man’s body cooling on a slab, depriving Magnus of the chance to watch over the last of the Herondales will always be one thing he will never forgive the man for. 

Alec chose that moment to jerk awake, a familiar name falling from his lips in a pained gasp, “Jace!” 

Magnus felt something seize up in his chest. Yes, almost too easy indeed. 

00

They find Jace in an lonely alley, barely a stone’s throw from the back door of Hunter’s Moon. Magnus will later marvel that he managed to make it even that far, considering the amount of pain he must have felt simply from breathing. 

In that moment however, Magnus only has eyes for the leaves. Twirling through the air in whirls and spirals, bending around and over Jace in an intricate dance, tossed high into the air by an unseen gust of wind, then falling back to the dirty pavement with a rattle. It was a quiet and clear night, the air outside the alleyway as still as spun glass. There was not a whisper of a breeze. 

Fortunately for all of them, Alexander was ever the sensible one. 

“Magnus, Jace needs help!” A drastic understatement Magnus suspected, falling to his knees beside Alec, who had taken the opportunity presented by Magnus’ brief contemplation of the weather to wrap his arms securely around his parabatai’s hunched form. 

“Alec,” It was hissed past a locked jaw, directed towards the pavement, but they both heard it, even over the rattle of the ever blowing leaves. Magnus felt his hair whip back as his hands made contact with Jace’s jacket, eliciting a stifled hiss from the shadowhunter. Faint tremors wracked through Jace’s frame, his eyes squeezing shut even as he shifted his head into Alec’s chest. 

Blue light flashed from Magnus fingers to Jace’s chest, the warlock’s fingers hurried, his face anxious. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Alec always sounded demanding when he was panicking. Magnus did not find a panicked Alexander reassuring, but there was no arguing it was certainly an appropriate emotion for the circumstances. His magic hummed again. Magnus dropped his head in frustration. 

“I don’t know. He’s running a high fever, his energy is all over the place, and he’s clearly in a great deal of pain. But as to the cause…” Magnus trailed off, as Jace finally raised his head. Tears worked their way from the corners of his eyes across his face, his lip a bitten and bloody mess. 

“Come on man, I thought you knew everything.” Magnus huffed out a laugh at the ridiculousness of all this. Only a Herondale could possibly find anything humorous about this situation. 

It took Magnus a moment, and Jace’s rapidly whitening face, to realize he’d said that last part aloud. 

Magnus was opening his mouth to apologize, Alec’s glare burning against his skin, when Jace suddenly curled closer to his parabatai, fresh agony lancing across his face as the gravel scattered around the alley began to tremble. Magnus’ magic flared, and his eyes widened painfully. 

“You stubborn, idiotic shadowhunter. How are you even still conscious?!” 

Jace huffed out a chuckle, sweat beading along his forehead, streaming over Magnus lacquered nails as he brushed the hair from Jace’s forehead. “Herondale stubbornness I guess. Hey, at least I come by it honestly right?” His tone is light, if one ignores the underscore of bone deep agony, but his eyes when they find Magnus’ are wide and pleading and almost childlike in their desperate inquiry. 

Magnus met Alec’s panicked gaze, gently caressing Jace’s head, his magic leaking from his fingertips into the boy’s agonized mind. “Yes Jonathan, you definitely come by it honestly,” he leaned foreward until his lips could brush the crown of Jace’s head. “I promise.” 

And as Magnus allowed his magic to guide Jace into blissfull unconsciousness, a smile slowly played across the bruised and bloody lips. 

Magnus blew out a breath, raising his eyes to meet Alec’s now slightly calmer gaze. “We’re going to fix this Alexander. I promise you that.” Alec squeezed Magnus’ hand threw Jace’s clammy fingers. 

“I know.”

00

Getting Jace back to the loft was interesting. Mostly because it made Magnus question how much the shadowhunter actually ate on a regular basis, because warlock who is certainly no slouch at working out or not, it should not be this easy for a guy who is several centuries old at the very least to carry the unconscious weight of a grown man for a good twenty blocks. 

The steaks might have helped, but Magnus’ magic was still far to depleted to open a portal for anything less than a life or death situation. Plus, Magnus had no real desire to find out how Jace’s new leaf blowing ability would interact with travel via magic portal. 

So, they walked. And Alec, by virtue of being slightly slower than Magnus, lost the dash to decide who got to carry Jace home. They hadn’t actually discussed where they were going, but Magnus still had most of Jace’s stuff in the definitely not still a guest room, so he was walking in the direction of the loft until someone told him otherwise. 

Three blocks from home, Alexander had yet to voice a protest, and Jonathan was still unconscious, so loft it was. 

Jace gave yet another pained gasp, pressing his face closer to Magnus’ shoulder as the warlock shifted his charge higher in his arms. Alexander hovered at his elbow, his hand tangled firmly with the fabric of Jace’s t-shirt. It made walking somewhat more difficult, but the part of Magnus that would, he suspected, be forever haunted by the agony in Alec’s voice as he stuttered out those horrible words, “He’s dead,” that part of him refused to even contemplate suggesting Alec let go, if even for a moment. 

Jace mumbled out something that might have been Alec, or might have been father or even Magnus, the unnatural heat pulsating off him increasing yet again. Behind their little party, a stream of leaves, grass clippings, and the occasional bird feather flowed out in a seemingly endless stream. 

Alec cleared his throat. “What the hell happened at that lake Magnus?” Magnus personally doubts hell had anything to do with it. “I haven’t the foggiest Alexander.” He met his boyfriend’s gaze over Jace’s head. “But I certainly intend to find out.” Alec raises his chin in response. And just like that, they are decided.   
The outer door to the loft at last looms, a welcome if somewhat unfamiliar sight. Magnus rarely sees this part of the building. The leaves bump into Alec’s back as they come to an abrupt halt. 

Magnus looks at Alec. Alec looks at Magnus. They both look at the unconscious form in his arms, then at the confused leaves, then back. Alec arched an eyebrow. “Now what?” They both start laughing at the same time. There is an edge of hysteria to it. 

But for all that, that including the unconscious shadowhunter in his arms, the mysterious collection of possibly sentient leaves, and the constant threat of some new plot falling from the sky to torment them all, for all that, Magnus finds that for once, he is truly, blissfully happy with how his life has turned out. 

Leaves nudge at his collar. Now they just have to figure out how to get this lot upstairs without destroying anything, such as the building, or themselves. 

Yes, almost too easy covered it quite nicely.


End file.
